


Sleeper

by LizzyFranklin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:49:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29521119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyFranklin/pseuds/LizzyFranklin
Summary: A boy grows up on legends told by the local villagers.





	Sleeper

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't even remembered I'd written this until I read it again. I hope you enjoy.

You always loved stories – you got that from your father, I think. Stories were his strength, and his glory; their magic allowed him to do what he did. 

The villagers told stories of your father's deeds, especially _that_ deed, the one that made them nervous, over beer, and bread, and fresh-dug tubers – though never to me. Should I chance to come to town, their stories fell silent as they watched me pass. Oh, but they made certain that you heard them, and you never questioned your rightful spot by the fire, always close to the teller, whenever the tales were being told. I think, now, that they shrouded his identity, made him seem like someone from ages past, with careful deliberation. And I think they failed to tell that story to its end. They meant to retell the ending the way they thought it should have been.

I told you that I was enchanted. I never hid the truth – but neither did I share the nature of my enchantment. You asked, once, if I was really a princess, and a terse smile was my only answer before I hugged you and sent you off to bed. I wish I had told you then who I was, what life had been like, how sometimes songs brought dreams of battle back to me.

You heard the stories of your father, and of great wizards, and of knights errant who rode out on quests to make the kingdom safe, and they inflamed your mind like dragon fire. Each great hero called a dragon to fight him in single combat, on ground of the hero’s choosing. You felt yourself different – you _knew_ yourself to be different - from the other boys in the village. When you heard the tales of magic songs – songs that were carried on the wind to where dragons slept, songs that woke them and called them into battle – you felt your destiny was clear. Oh, had you asked me for my story then.

With work, with research, and with daring, you found my song, and I cannot deny the pounding rhythm that pulls me with joy to battle. My enchantment is broken. 

Congratulations, my son. You have woken the dragon.


End file.
